


Flowers

by Ichiakago



Series: Khirk One-Shots [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alpha!Khan, Alpha/Beta!Khan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arguing, Beta!Khan, Established Relationship, Gen, Mild Language, Omega!Kirk, Omega!Kirk/Alpha!Khan, Omega!Kirk/Beta!Khan, Or Is It Explicit?, Pure Omega!Kirk, Pure Omega!Kirk/Alpha/Beta!Khan, The F-Bomb Is Dropped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:36:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ichiakago/pseuds/Ichiakago
Summary: Arguing is never pretty. Especially when a Pure Omega is involved.





	

_“Get out!”_

Commander Spock barely has time to leap out of the way as his fellow Commander bolts out of the Captain’s quarters and ducks to avoid be hit by a coffee mug that shatters on the wall behind him, rounding on his heel to snarl something rude in his native tongue before his mate appears in the doorway and screams something back at him, storming off while muttering something about “mod man ducking bodegas,” only to have another coffee mug be hurled at his head with unerring accuracy and shatter on impact. The Augment rounds on his heel and roars something at the younger male that has him bolting towards him and shoving him so hard that he is thrown back a few feet, landing hard on his back as his attacker bolts into his quarters with tears streaming down his cheeks, the taller male getting to his feet while hurling obscenities at the closed door before storming off in a rage. Those that witnessed the event stare after in shock and then look at each other, the Vulcan clutching his PADD in shock before cautiously eyeing the closed door of his Commanding Officer’s quarters, debating on whether or not to enter and hand him the report or quickly turn on his heel and walk away. He attempts to enter the quarters after asking permission only to be screamed, screeched, at with creative obscenities through the closed, and locked, door, turning on his heel and heads back up to the bridge to take over as Captain, having learned quickly to not interfere with a, dispute, between human bondmates, specifically when a Pure Omega is involved.

As he takes the command chair and begins his duties as acting Captain, he feels a gaze on the back of his head from the direction of the Communications station, deciding to not mention the incident with their Captain for the time being. Alpha shift passes without incident before the Commander retires to his quarters, not before he passing by his Captain’s quarters with the notion of evaluating his status, deciding that the possibility of his emotional Pure Omega Captain turning his full rage on him is not a, highly appealing one, entering his quarters before hesitating and stands outside his Captain’s quarters with what he would almost call trepidation.

“Captain?” He calls out, waiting for a reply.

“Go away!” Comes muffled through the door. “I don’t want to talk to you, you fucking uppity crumpet-stuffer!”

“I fail to see how fornication and arrogance have anything to do with human pastries and filling a receptacle,” Spock states, raising a slanted eyebrow.

There is a pause before the doors slide open and his Captain stands before him, his face red and puffy and wet with his eyes red, clearly having been crying as he wipes his face with his sleeve, hiccupping softly as he lets his First Officer inside his quarters.

“I believe in the human fashion for the concern of another’s wellbeing, I should ask you, ‘Are you alright?’” The Commander states without any inflection.

“Not even fucking close,” James spits, moving to sit on his bed and hold his face in his hands.

The Vulcan hesitates with uncertainty on how to proceed with their encounter, deciding to remain standing and clasp his hands behind his back to wait for his Commanding Officer to continue the conversation, coming to the conclusion that he does not want to continue when he crawls onto his bed and curls up with his back to him.

“Just leave me alone, Spock,” he says quietly, his voice wavering. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you are in need of any assistance, I shall be retired in my quarters,” Spock says, turning on his heel and exits his Captain’s quarters.

A quiet sob causes him to hesitate and turn to look only to have the doors smoothly slide closed behind him, resuming to make his way back to his quarters before he is forced to make a detour when one of the Lieutenants on duty for the Science labs comes running to him in a panic, finding his Captain’s mate pouring over one of the advanced imaging apparatuses that resembles an old-fashioned microscope.

“Commander Singh,” the Vulcan begins. “If I may-”

“No you may not,” Khan interrupts with a growl. “And fuck off.”

“I fail to see how, ‘fucking off,’ would be beneficial to this…” The Science Officer begins before the words die in his throat at the murderous glare sent his way.

“It would be beneficial to your survival in the next two seconds to do so,” the Augment snarls, his arctic eyes flashing with the promise of violence.

His fellow Commander quickly retreats and heads back to his quarters with the intention of meditating, finding himself unable to do so as his thoughts turn to his Captain’s dilemma and the possible solutions to it, deciding to work on his paperwork and not attempt an unsuccessful meditation. He finds that he is unable to focus on his work for longer than a span of seven-point-four minutes, leaning back in his chair and presses his fingertips to each other as he thinks, attempting to find a solution to his Commanding Officer’s and his mate’s dilemma.

But how could he, a part Beta, fix a dispute between a bonded Alpha and Omega without letting any harm come to not only himself, but the party who is in need of mediating?

His thoughts remain infuriatingly silent.

 

Spock watches his fellow Commander deliberately weave through the chaos of the mess hall to an unoccupied table on the other side of the room when a number of available tables had been closer to his former position, glancing at the reason he has been stalking around the ship with a, ‘black cloud’ over his head and scaring off everyone with just a look, though he questions on how an atmospheric feature could be relevant to this situation.

“It means he’s in a bad mood,” his Captain mutters, stabbing a piece of his salad with more aggression than necessary as he rests his cheek in his palm. “And he’s got no fucking right to be.”

His First Officer raises a slanted eyebrow at his unusually foul-mouthed Captain as of late, both he and his mate having been in a horrendous mood for the past two-point-six-three weeks, both avoiding each other, ‘like the plague,’ Nyota had called it. They had not said a word to each other since their argument, even avoiding eye contact and refusing to walk down the same corridor if it was at all avoidable. His Commanding Officer had been trying to keep his emotions in check until his Yeoman spilled a freshly brewed cup of coffee on both he and his PADD, unleashing his fury on her that had her fleeing with tears streaming down her face and no one daring to speak up as he stormed off the bridge and into his ready room, not a single member of his crew willing to question his orders until his First Officer had subtly dropped the suggestion that he was behind on his paperwork and perhaps his quarters would be the best place to catch up on it.

That had been four days ago.

James rises to his feet to fetch a glass of water as his primary Science Officer spots movement out of the corner of his eye, fearfully watching as his fellow Commander moves on a path to intercept him with a look that angered determination on his face.

“We need to talk,” Khan says, the whole mess hall going silent.

“Now is not the time,” his mate snaps, energy crackling over his skin. “Or the place.”

“When and where _is_ the appropriate time?” The Augment growls, his arctic blue eyes flaring with anger.

“Certainly not here,” the blond snarls, moving to turn away.

“Don’t you _dare_ walk away from me,” the Brit snarls, snatching his wrist. “We need to-”

His Captain whirls around and strikes his mate hard across the face as he snarls, yanking away and takes a step back as the air crackles with his rampant emotions, his fists clenched as he trembles with fury.

“Don’t lay a fucking hand on me,” he snarls, his glacial blue eyes flashing with fury. “You don’t get to touch me without my permission.”

“Oh, so I _need_ your permission to do something?” His Alpha rumbles through a clenched jaw as his hands curl into fists. “And yet _you_ get to do things without telling me, like taking _fucking birth control!?”_

“It’s my body!” The Captain screeches, a few loose objects rattling suddenly. “Why do I need to explain that to you!?”

“I’m your fucking Alpha!” The dark haired male snarls, his rage clear in his scent. “We share _everything!”_

“That doesn’t mean there are things I want the whole fucking world to know!” The Omega snarls, tears biting at the corners of his eyes. “We’ve barely been bonded for a year-and-a-half and you’re already thinking about _kids!? I’m not ready for that!”_

“Do you not love me?” Khan growls. “Do you not trust me?”

_“I don’t know!”_ James shrieks, tears streaming down his face. _“I don’t know if I trust **anyone!”**_

He turns and runs out of the mess hall full tilt with tears pouring down his cheeks, leaving his startled mate standing in the silent room and staring after him as the room looks at each other, the one closest to the person that fled looking down at he meal as he closes his eyes and exhales softly before rising to his feet.

“Khan, I need to talk to you,” Leonard says, motioning for him to follow. “And this really does need to be private.”

The Augment hesitates before following, his sister watching him with an unreadable expression before looking down at her food, her emerald eyes closing before she rises to her feet and exits the mess hall. Spock begins to postulate as to what the Doctor could be discussing, as the Captain’s medical history only began the day he joined the Academy with his first physical, and even then it was not complete. He had learned that they had met before the Academy, but the circumstances were unknown to him.

Unknown to all of Starfleet apparently.

He catches a knowing and devastated look from Nyota as she looks down at her meal, Hendorff having the same expression crossing his face as he puts his food down.

Not all of Starfleet then.

 

Leonard can only listen as his best friend’s mate remain violently ill in the Medbay’s bathroom and his heart clenches in sympathy, knowing that what he told him is heart wrenching without experiencing it first hand and having to tell what happened to the mate of the person that it happened to…

He hears the older male cough violently before spiting into the toilet and flushes it, staggering into the Medbay and has to be caught by the Beta to prevent him from crumpling to the ground, helping him move to a biobed and sit down as he quickly scans him.

“I can’t believe that… I… Who did that to him?” Khan demands as his disbelief turns to pure rage. “Tell me who did that to him.”

“I can’t tell you,” the Doctor says, looking down. “I swore to Jim I wouldn’t tell anyone, and the only other person who knew was Pike, and Uhura. She’s a Pure Omega, like Jim. So she knew who he was immediately, even while he was…”

The Brit pales and looks like he may be violently ill again before the brunet gives a hypo of anti-nausea medicine, the slight green tint of his skin fading as he closes his arctic blue eyes and takes deep calming breaths, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just been told by his mate’s best friend and not his mate.

“How could someone do that to a child that young, for that reason?” He whispers, tears streaming down his face. “And why can you not tell me?”

“I promised Jim that I wouldn’t,” Leonard says quietly, looking down. “It nearly killed him to tell me in the first place, and Pike had to do something that…”

“What?” Khan asks.

The Beta just shakes his head and sighs softly, turning to file out some paperwork before he pauses and turns back to the much older male, debating on what to tell him.

“I can’t tell you anything, because it’s not mine to tell,” he says quietly. “And Jim’s not ready to tell you yet, if ever. And for the love of fuck, don’t ask him about his past. I don’t need him to have a flashback and be re-traumatized. The last thing we need is an insane and terrified Pure Omega in an enclosed space.”

“Then what do I do?” The Augment asks.

The Doctor pauses, then smiles.

 

Spock glances up as his Captain enters the mess hall after he had remained absent for three Alpha shifts, the conversations quieting as he moves to the replicator and picks up his meal, moving to sit down at the same table his First Officer sits at and idly pokes at his meal with his chin in his hand before pushing it away. He folds his arms on the table and rests his forehead on them, an air of depression around him as his crew glances at him before resuming their meals and talk quietly, the Vulcan hesitating as he debates on what to do before the door to the mess hall opens.

“James?”

The blond in question hesitates before turning his head just enough to look out of the corner of his eye, surprised when he finds his mate extending him a bouquet of plastic roses and a sheepish look on his face.

“Would you believe me if I told you that the replicators cannot replicate live flowers and the ones that are alive tried to eat my face?” Khan asks quietly, his gaze flicking away.

His Omega hesitates before turning around completely, studying him before rising to his feet and accepting the bouquet, stretching up on his toes to kiss his cheek before falling back onto his feet.

“I do,” he says softly, holding the bouquet to his chest. “But that doesn’t mean I’m still not hurt.”

“I know,” the Augment says softly, keeping his hands by his side. “And I am sorry. I am truly sorry.”

“I know, but I’m not quite ready to forgive you,” the Omega says quietly, looking down at the floor. “But I still love you, Noonien.”

“I love you too, James,” his Alpha says quietly, smiling softly. “Can I at least give you an apology kiss?”

His Captain tips his head up and the corners of his mouth turn up, waiting for the older male to lean down and give him a chaste kiss with closed lips, glacial and arctic eyes falling shut as their lips linger before parting with a soft plop and rest their foreheads together without touching each other.

“You’re sleeping in your own quarters for the next two weeks,” James says quietly, earning a soft sigh. “And I’m putting you on Beta shift unless it’s an emergency. But that’s it. No other restrictions.”

“I can accept that,” Khan says softly, pulling away. “Because that is reasonable. For an Omega in your situation.”

His Omega looks pissed before he understands that he had only said the truth, nodding in understanding before looking down at the flowers.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “But you do know that there’s an actual garden on F-Deck, right?”

“I do now,” the Alpha/Beta sighs, shaking his head. “Wish I had known that earlier.”

“At least you know when you piss me off again,” the blond says with a smile.

His mate smiles back and leans in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, turning on his heel and exits the mess hall, the Omega looks down at the flowers before smiling.

“Quit judging me!” He snaps, glaring over his shoulder. “And get back to your duties!”

Nyota grins at him and eats her meal, earning a soft smile from in her Captain as understanding passes between them.

“I will never understand Omegas,” Leonard mutters, stabbing a piece of his food.

“I fail to-”

“Just shut up and eat.”


End file.
